


The Heartbreak Express | Eren x Reader x Levi

by Eiri



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Multiple Endings, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-05-31 05:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6458485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eiri/pseuds/Eiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because matchmaking services are too common these days.</p><p>(Or the AU where you are a member of The Heartbreak Express—a service offered to help people end unhealthy relationships. But what happens when one job ends up creating more trouble than intended? It’s just too bad no one can help when it’s you who needs it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Heartbreak Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✖ A/N: This story will be an eventual Levi/Reader or Eren/Reader, depending on whose ending you choose. Also! I don't mean to hate on any of the ships here, I respect them and think they're pretty cute in their own ways.

Have you ever thought about a situation where you are in a relationship and wants out but finds it hard to do so?

It's kind of weird when you think about it. I mean, how hard it is to say those three magical words?

"Let's break up."

Simple, right?

Well, apparently, unless you have some kind of inhumane tolerance to hurting people, then not everyone can do that. And when you think about it, it's not hard to know why either. Maybe the guy or girl was a longtime best friend and it's scary to think about what may happen if you end up the relationship. Will you still be friends?  ~~Heck no.~~  Will things be awkward?  ~~Fuck yes.~~  What if the reason you want to break up is because you found  _another_  special someone who you're  _really_   _ ~~not~~_  sure you want to end up with? How will your other half take it?

Or what if the problem  _was_  the other half? Let's say maybe you were being cheated on? And you don't know because the person is such an expert at hiding it, but your friend becomes suspicious and wants to help you without you knowing it?

There are many factors that come to play when you realize something you've always wanted wasn't exactly vanilla swirls and cherries on top. And for that very reason, it's why The Heartbreak Express exists.

The Heartbreak Express is simply put, a small service offered to people who want to end a relationship, be it for yourself or for a friend. It's simple, just write a letter with what you want to be done, place it on a navy blue envelope and slip it into an old locker numbered #110  located in the east most of building of Shiganshina University. You'll surprisingly receive a reply in your locker in a week's time, or oddly enough, if you don't have a locker, then you'll just find the letter response inside the cover of a textbook you have.

The reply would either be an acceptance or a rejection of your request, and then when it does get accepted, then you'll have to pay quite the amount the same way you sent the request—which is via the navy blue envelope and locker process again.

And as for why the fee is expensive is because the members of The Heartbreak Express really don't take pride in what they do. Whatever the case, breaking a relationship is never a good thing, much more when you're meddling into someone else's affairs. Of course part of the rules for sending a request is you had to include a valid reason for wanting to break two people up, because why would you break up two people who are perfectly happy together anyway?

In any case, when you receive another letter saying your request is being taken care of, you can expect the results as fast as two weeks after receiving confirmation. And while it hasn't happened before, if you don't get your result in half a year then you will receive your payment back plus a little extra as compensation for the time you wasted into waiting.

About how The Heartbreak Express can break people up, no one actually knows. And people don't actually know who the members are either. People have tried waiting in the shadows, observing the locker #110 when they have free time, and some people even went as far as to stay well into the night but not one person has seen the locker being opened to retrieve however many navy blue envelopes it has piling inside. Oddly enough, even after a night of waiting, those who sent requests still received their replies the next day, so after deciding they've wasted enough time, people just left the mystery of this relationship help-group as is.

Thankfully too, because you, who were tasked with retrieving the letters, have found too many times where you just wanted to slam some heads in the concrete so you can do your job and get the letters before you miss the last bus going home.

That being said, yes. You are a part of The Heartbreak Express, and how you actually got included in this little service was unbeknownst to you. Okay—no. Why you were a part of this relationship service was because your incredible luck had you stumbling upon that old abandoned building on the first day of classes, coincidentally leading you to see a brunette woman taking out envelopes from the rumored mystery locker, then you being cornered the very moment you opened your mouth to ask directions because you were lost.

And then there you have it. The day itself you were introduced to some kind of organization you didn't know existed, and forced to work as part of the group even though you promised you wouldn't tell anyone about what you saw.

In the end you decided to just accept your fate because you figured you weren't going home unless you said yes, so that explains why you go home late these days because you needed to retrieve the letter requests then send them to the University Arts Club room because that was dubbed as the headquarters of this bizarre relationship operation group.

"Excuse me." You muttered as you poked your head inside the room boasting the sign 'Arts Club' above the doorway in fine print.

Different hues looked on over to your form, a few smiles were then strewn your way, urging you to smile back at these people you've been acquainted to for the past three months since you were  ~~forced~~  recruited (as Hanji says it) to this well respected mini-organization of relationship breakers hiding under the ruse of being an Arts Club.

"Ahh! (F/n), you have them?" A brunette student squealed as she stood up from her desk and pulled you into the room before the signature click of the lock resounded behind you. Not that locking the room would do any good when most of the students had gone home this time of the night.

"There wasn't much. Just these three." You muttered, showing the woman three, crisp, navy blue envelopes shaped no bigger than the standard size of letters you'd get via the mailman. "So... yeah, I'll be leaving now. See you tomorrow, Hanji." You muttered to your upperclassman and informal boss, the woman looking little too engrossed in reading the letters to notice as you made your way to the door.

Before you could reach the handle leading you to the halls though, you were stilled by a voice.

"Oh, (F/n). It's pretty late. At least have someone walk you home." Hanji called from her desk, where she has now set the opened envelopes down and was having a boy with hues of cerulean look into those printed writings.

Armin, as you recalled the name of said boy looking over the letters—a classmate of yours from one of your morning classes—gave you a smile for a moment before you trailed your eyes back to the brunette girl standing by the white board, twirling a black-inked marker in her hands. The student's smile was directed at you, though somehow you felt the reason for her mood came from something else.

Apart from the brunette's smile though, there was something more that caught your attention as you lingered by the doorway.

A boy with two tones of hair was already walking away from his seat by then, the boy taking Hanji's words from earlier into consideration and offering to bring you home. Your reply was nonexistent though, as your sights zoned in on Hanji's scribbled writing against a board of white reflecting the bright fluorescent lighting in the room.

It was Hanji's habit to do this, you concluded the first few weeks at 'work'. The habit being that the upperclassman would always list up potential jobs on the board so that the member can vote on whether or not they wanted to accept it or not. You thought the practice was useless though since no request has ever been rejected, at least since the day you started working for the group no one has been rejected yet.

From the names listed on the board, two pairs of names struck you, mostly because the written words were quite well known at your high school, even before you started university.

On the board, written in a brunette's fluid penmanship was two pairs that you didn't think much of at the time except that they were candidates for potential break-ups and extra pocket money.

_List of requests:_

_Levi and Petra_  
_Eren and Mikasa_

And it was really unfortunate back then, because if only you knew how bad accepting this job would be, then you would willingly miss the last bus home and sleep in the classroom overnight if it meant you could prevent the trouble caused by accepting the job to break up what was known as the most famous couples in the university.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✖ A/N: If you read my other stories, you'll know this is short compared to my standard chapter lengths. My goal for this story is that every chapter must only have 2000-2500 or less words excluding all author's notes. It'll be a personal challenge *^*
> 
> Have a lovely day and I hope you enjoyed this! ;//v//;)'' ♥


	2. You're picture perfect blue

It's just six in the morning and here you are staring into the depths of a dimly lit arts room with your legs feeling like they were better detached from your body than connected to it.

Running was not really your problem no, but running from one end of the campus to another in record speed was something you didn't want to do ever again. And yet, as you panted and grasped a side of the open doorway with one hand for support, your (e/c) orbs that settled with the sight of navy blue sticking out of your knapsack on the floor told you that this may be just the introduction to a series of early morning marathons to come.

You have been working for The Heartbreak Express for three months now you recalled, and your position in the group is still arguable though you're sure you're what people call an errand girl. None of the members of The Heartbreak Express have ever called you that though, not that any person in the group used titles at all since everyone seemed to be closely knit friends from your observations.

And you had to admit sometimes you felt like the odd one out being the only first year in the team of second and third year students. Love was not your forte as well, simply because it didn’t interest you at all. But you figured the extra money you earned from a portion of the expensive help fees were quite nice, and at least you were helping people in some way.  
   
Breaking hearts yes, but helping still. Right?

Sighing, you entered the room and opened the light switch. And the stillness in the air should have made you uncomfortable, but taking into consideration that all classes for Shiganshina University started at eight in the morning, and it's just a little past six am, you weren't surprised about the horror-movie worthy silence going on around you.  
   
It took a lot of convincing and fabricated group study sessions for your parents to let you out of the house at such an early hour. Thankfully the university opens its doors to the students early too, but who in their right mind would be in school two hours before class time?  
   
The answer?  
   
No one.  
   
And this is how you came to the conclusion that after two months of nearly getting caught opening locker #110, six in the morning was the way to go. The only problem you had was that since the locker was inside an abandoned school building the school board was too lazy to demolish, you had to thread the halls guided only by whatever light was pouring out of the wide hallway windows.  
   
The place was usually popular to the student population during in-between class or lunch breaks. At six in the morning however, the place looked nothing short of haunted, which is why you would make a run for it as soon as you retrieved what you had to get.  
   
Of course, you would always make sure to fasten the locker shut with a lock before you ran; otherwise you’re sure you won’t see the next sunlight when a certain brunette hears about it.  
   
Speaking of the brunette, as you glanced around and saw the whiteboard plastered by the front of the room, you could still see Hanji’s writing, still the same as when you left yesterday but with little check marks. Check marks meant the request was accepted, though you really didn’t expect an answer other than yes.  
   
After a moment more of staring and your ears picking up signs of students starting to flood the halls, you grabbed your bag on the floor and set it on top of an empty table before you walked to the board and wiped it clean.  
   
If someone were to walk in the room and see the names after all, that was all the evidence needed to uncover the mystery of The Heartbreak Express. Armin was usually the one who erased the writings, but it’s normal to forget sometimes you thought.  
   
Setting the whiteboard eraser down on the wooden desk up front, you then heard the door of the room being opened. Quickly, you glanced at the wall clock just above the board before you, the time reading 6:45 am—Hanji’s usual arrival time.  
   
Walking to your knapsack, you opened the zipper, a hand ready to pull out a set of colored envelopes.  
   
“Hanji I got th—”  
   
When the door was opened though, you were pretty sure Hanji was anything but the person standing by the doorway.  
   
Hurriedly, you stuffed the enveloped you were about to pull out, as deep in your bag as you could before you closed it shut and gulped at the feeling of eyes boring over your form. Silvery hues, those famous gunmetal shades you never really had a glimpse of were looking at you, and now that you could see it, you were pretty sure that embedded in those grays were speckles of washed out blue.  
   
“Umm…” You began, but honestly you had no idea what to say.  
   
Standing by the doorway was none other than Levi Ackerman, and here you’re thankful you just erased the board because who knows what might happen if the guy saw his (and his girlfriend’s) name listed under the words: _People we have to break up._  
   
“Are you... looking for someone?” You managed to ask after getting your nerves settled in a matter of seconds.  
   
There was silence for a while, and you figured it would go on for another minute or so but it seems your judgments were wrong when the person by the doorway heaved out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a thumb and index finger. You could have sworn you heard something along the lines of “stupid glasses” too.  
   
“If you’re looking for Hanji, I think she’ll be here in—” Just then you heard those signature stomps on the hallways outside, a smile leaving your lips subtly as you finished your sentence. “…a bit.”  
   
“Levi, you can’t open the door without me!” A voice called, and no sooner than a moment later did Hanji appear, panting by the doorway next to the stoic gray-eyed man, her eyes looking over to the white board a quick second before your form was even noticed.  
   
‘I erased it.’ You mouthed, and judging from the flood of relief from the girl’s russet hues, you guessed she knew about the possibility of her writing being left overnight.  
   
“It’s not like it’s going to make a difference.” The male by the door answered, and from the tone you concluded the two were friends. Which then lead to your eyebrows furrowing because Hanji was plotting the ruin of her friend’s relationship and you didn’t know how the woman could do that without feeling the least bit guilty.  
   
Maybe Hanji was guilty though, but her smile as she looked on over to you and her friend didn’t reflect that kind of emotion.  
   
“Just hurry up and give me the text book.”  
   
“Yeah, sure.” Hanji muttered as she walked past her friend and went behind the front desk, her hands revealing an old hardbound book fit for self-defense. The girl did not hand to book over to her friend though, and instead she walked over to you, pushing your stiff form across the room until you were standing in front of Levi with your heart about to explode from anxiety.  
   
“Formalities first.” The brunette muttered from behind you. “Levi, this is (F/n), our newest recruit to the arts club.” Hanji said proudly, making you smile awkwardly as the man before you sent a glare hopefully directed to the brunette behind you. “And (F/n), this is Levi, he’s a childhood friend of mine, along with Pe—”  
   
“I have a group work to attend.” You heard the man sigh as he walked over to the desk and snatched the book he needed from the brunette. “I can’t waste anymore time in the same room as you.”  
   
And with that, the raven haired student left, leaving you to sigh with relief though you had to admit you were a little bothered by the person’s snide personality.  
   
You then shrugged as you went to retrieve the new sets of requests and passed then over to Hanji who wasted no time ripping the sides open to retrieve the letters inside.  
   
As brown eyes glazed over words on paper, you pulled a notebook and started reading some notes for a quiz you barely just remembered.  
   
“So… what did you think of him (F/n)?” You glanced over to Hanji for a moment before taking your sights back to your notes, just as a blond boy came bursting through the doors with an apology for the writing you have fortunately erased before anyone could see it.  
   
“He doesn't like me.” You muttered.  
   
And you hear Hanji’s amused chuckling for a moment before she mutters back. “I see…”

 


	3. Heartbreakers gonna break

"Mina Carolina."  
  
 _Snap._  
  
"First year, graduate of Shiganshina University's High School Division last year. Currently conflicted about what to pursue in university, and works part time at the local cafe two stops away from school.”  
  
 _Snap._  
  
“People know her as sweet, caring, and generally a great friend or lover—owner of locker #37 in the Arts Department."  
  
 _Snap._  
  
Sighing, you backtracked into an empty alleyway stretching into a darkness you don't plan on threading into, the crying of the skies, or known by your less poetic side simply as rain, beating into your form a little stronger now than compared to hours earlier.  
   
You heard the familiar tune of your favorite song playing in a sound muffled by the pocket of your dark (color) hoodie, the clothing doing little to shield you from the cold, but it was better than nothing. Not that you cared about being soaked because as soon as you’re finished with what you had to do, you’d be home hitting the showers and diving into the depths of your mattress, knocked out from the rest of the world until the moment you had to peel yourself away from bed late Sunday afternoon the next day.  
  
In the darkness of an alleyway seconds later, you leaned against the stone walls behind you, a grimace leaving your lips as you fished your phone out of your pocket and swiped the bottom of the screen.  
   
You didn’t even look at the name of the caller, but the person who called was probably aware of that habit of yours because you were greeted by a name before anything else.  
   
“It’s Armin.” A voice muttered from the static, and you stared up at the sky for a moment, (e/c) hues scanning the swirls of grays and flashes of white before you brought your sights back to the red brick wall a meter’s length away from you, the red hue a shade two or three darker from the ongoing wash of water.  
   
“Hey...” You responded.  
   
“Hanji’s calling a retreat.” Armin said, his tone showing a tint of worry from the small sentence alone. “You’ve been out for about three hours. Hanji thinks we may have to use a different strategy for the guy.”  
   
“Do tell.” You managed to say with fake enthusiasm. “Though I have all the evidence we need already.”  
   
The other line was silent for a moment, enough for you to pull your phone away from being pressed in your ear so you could see if the call was still ongoing. The seconds were still counting the duration of the call, and you settled for wiping a few droplets of rain your phone’s screen has collected, though it didn’t really help when you used your dampened sleeve to do the wiping.  
   
“Armin? You still there?” You said as you pressed your phone again in your ear, a small furrow in your brows showing up from the uncomfortable feeling of the wet screen pressing against your skin.  
   
“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry (F/n), I was looking into organizing some of the requests we got.”  
   
“It’s not a problem.” You reassured the boy, and though you don’t know why either, you felt a smile settling into your face.  
   
“Anyway, you said you have it?”  
   
You glanced down to the camera in your hands, thankful that it was waterproof, or at least that’s what you remember Hanji saying a week ago, when the brunette entrusted the device into your hands and bumped your status from an errand girl to someone who actually does field work.  
   
Field work, in this case, meaning getting evidence in order to complete requests for The Heartbreak Express. It could be audio recordings, material objects, receipts, basically any kind of authentic proof needed in order to expose the cruelties of a relationship gone wrong. You liked taking photographs the most though, maybe because time is fleeting is capturing snippets of it seemed nice to you.  
   
Given your job though, you didn’t exactly like the fact that you were taking snippets of infidelity most of the time. The common case of people cheating on a significant other never did appeal to you after all. And really, you’d rather take pictures of inanimate objects but you had no say in the matter. A job is a job after all.  
   
“I have about 20 shots, all professionally taken by yours truly.” You tried to joke, a small grin leaving your lips almost simultaneously as you heard Armin’s chuckling from the other line.  
   
“I’m sure it is.” After the boy's words, loud crackling resonated from above, the sound making you flinch as much as you didn't want to admit it. “Umm… (F/n)?” Armin’s voice changed into a more concerned tone .  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“I’m at a café, H&S is the name I think. Do you think you can stop over here before heading home?” There was a pause on the other line, and before you could even take a moment to mull over your options, Armin’s voice rang through the static again. “Do I have to tell you Hanji will have me six feet under if you don’t come?”  
   
Stifling a laugh that failed horribly, you stepped out of the alleyway and back into the street you came from. “It’s a Saturday. We’re all working separately.” You reasoned out, though your feet were already dragging you to the said café Armin mentioned. “Hanji wouldn’t know.”  
   
Fortunately, you remembered passing sign reading H&S two streets back. You could just hope that the franchised branch was the one your blue-eyed companion was staying in. The café Armin mentioned was apparently popular and probably had duplicates every other street around.   
   
“Trust me (F/n). She wouldn’t be the founder of The Heartbreak Express without a reason.” Armin stated matter-of-factly. “But other than that, I’m honestly worried. We all are actually. There was a storm warning and you’re out there. You're part of the team now.”  
   
You smiled for a moment, your (e/c) orbs catching sight of a familiar chocolate brown sign with caramel colored cursive forming the sign H&S.  
   
“Correction: I was out there.” You stated before you closed the call, not giving Armin any kind of time for questions as  you crossed the street with a run, or at least your sorry excuse for a run because your legs have unfortunately started suffering the effects of trailing a pair for a straight three hours or so.  
   
The jingling of a bell rang above as you pushed past the glass doors to your destination, and you were prepared to face the wrath of a couple employees for you soiling the clean floors, but the workers in this particular café didn’t seem to mind, or maybe if they did, then they didn’t show it.  
   
Cautiously stepping into the wooden flooring and closing the door behind you, it didn’t take you long to find the person you were to meet with when the boy himself stood on his seat and waved you over. The blond’s features were basked in worry as much as you could tell, but yours just showed relief because you got the right café branch and didn’t have to go hunting for Armin.  
   
“Everything is here.” That was the first thing you said as you passed the camera over to your co-worker and possible friend. Armin's hands were covered by a towel, wherein you set the camera on.  
   
“Was it true then?” Armin asked as he busied himself wiping the camera of any water residue.  
   
“Unfortunately.” You muttered, a hand of yours catching a pale beige towel Armin lightly threw at you.  
   
That was the last word spoken for a moment as you two busied yourselves with your own tasks: with Armin copying the pictures you took into his laptop and you trying to dry your clothes with dabs of a towel. A few minutes after your arrival, a waitress dropped by your table, leaving on the glass tabletop, a small basket of bread slices with matching platters of butter and cream cheese, and lastly, two mugs of what you could only assume as hot chocolate from the sweet smell.  
   
“Hanji says good job.” Armin muttered after a while, the blaring screen of his laptop reflected in those black-rimmed glasses he had to wear occasionally.  
   
You couldn't really tell, but you figured Armin was talking to Hanji via some kind of messenger program. The Heartbreak Express operated during breaks, weekends, or even the holidays itself. There was simply a 'no-work day' and members had to find various means of communicating while out of school hours.  
   
“Good job…” You repeated, a bitter tone settling in your voice that Armin caught up with, mostly because you weren't even trying to conceal how you didn’t like the job now that you were doing hands-on work.  
   
At least before, you only passed letters around, so that technically meant your hands were clean from the stains that came along with ruining relationships.  
   
It definitely didn't feel like you did a good job at all.


End file.
